Fascination
by crimsonrosepetals
Summary: Sequel to Fixation. DarkSatoshi. Dark isn't the only one with a certain fixation. R&R please.


Title: Fascination

Author: crimsonrosepetals

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: Dark/Satoshi

Warning: AU, shounen-ai, perversion, OOC-ness

Summary: Dark isn't the only one with a certain fixation.

Disclaimer: D.N.Angel isn't mine. Don't sue.

Author's Notes: Yes! Finally I can update again! So, some people asked for a sequel to "Fixation" so here you go. Hope you like it, please don't forget to review.

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Fascination

I feel a pair of eyes on me as I make my way down the corridor and stop. At once I recognize them to be yours. Slowly, languidly, I lift my gaze and fix it directly on you, and I hide an amused smirk as you belatedly realize that I see you. You're stunned; you thought I didn't know you were watching me when in fact, I found that out long ago. You're not entirely discreet you know. Or perhaps you're just amazed that I knew exactly where to find you – seated in the corner of your classroom, at the very back.

So it didn't ever occur to you that perchance you weren't the only one who was looking. You never considered the probability that maybe I've had my eye on you. Hn. Why do you think I make it a point to pass by here everyday?

Now, don't get me wrong; I'm not stalking you – at least, I wouldn't say so. That would be a more fitting description as to what some of the girls in my class have been doing; following you around all over the school, memorizing everything about you, from your stats to your schedules to the people you've dated (a surprisingly small number of girls, I must say; I had thought that someone like you would have gone out with every nice-looking pair of legs that crossed your path, but that was before I got to know you a little more through my observation) and whatever else they can think about.

As for me, I'm content with just…gazing at you from time to time. You know; randomly glancing your way – inconspicuously of course – and casually noticing how the wind plays with your sleek, violet hair, and how when the light hits your eyes at a certain angle, they gleam like dark amethysts.

Or maybe just absent-mindedly noting that on warm days, you leave the first two buttons of your shirt open and under the sun, the sweat glistens on your smooth, tanned skin and I find myself following a bead of it down the vast expanse of your slender neck to your exposed collarbone until it finally disappears into your uniform. Then I see your tongue dart out to lick your dry lips and I suddenly find it hard to swallow.

Sometimes I also watch your hands; your long, fine fingers thrumming idly on your desk, the way you write with slow, unhurried strokes and I imagine how it would be like to have them on me; raking through my hair, sliding down my naked chest as you press closer to me, pinning me harder against the wall. I could almost hear your deep, velvet voice; smooth and seductive, whispering, muttering base nothings and tempting promises in my ear between harsh pants and I forget to breathe. Your mouth finds its way to my throat; nipping…suckling…tasting…and I moan as you mark me as yours. I feel your fingers travel lower; teasing…touching…tormenting…but I digress.

The point is; I've been watching you. And I like what I see. Who wouldn't; after all, you are rather exotic and undeniably good-looking, with your soft, long, luxurious mane, your deep, warm, radiant eyes and that sumptuous, mysterious smile…but once again, I digress. Anyway; admittedly, I might have been observing you a little too closely…

…so alright, I have been stalking you. But by the time I'd realized that, I had also seen the way you stare at me when I pass by your classroom. I had already become aware of the expression you affix me when I do. I'd figured out by then that you were watching me. And I've been watching you. It's a mutual habit, I guess, and it's been so long since it started. So how come until now, ages past, we still don't know each others' names?

I think it's time that I find out yours.

Our eyes are still locked; my gaze is unwavering and sure while yours is still a bit confused, yet pleasantly so. I want you. I know you can see it in my eyes and I sure as hell can see it reflected in yours. After what seems like an eternity, the two of us suspended in time, I reluctantly turn away, but not before sending out a clear message: This is an invitation and I hope you accept it.

If you want me, come and get me.

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Review please.


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